Kitchen Cuddlin'
by Zamael
Summary: Some people appreciate the occasional displays of affection while cooking. Others... not so much.


His stomach was what woke him up.

This was by no means an uncommon occurrence for Po: what with the whole spiritual healthiness and living his dream thing, he no longer had the constant urge to eat everything that was put in front of him (indeed, him having lost a substantial amount of weight in the last few months was not all due to training), but he was still a big, healthy panda that required a big, healthy breakfast to get through the day. His mind remained groggy and sleepy at this particular hour, and parts of him objected the cold harsh outside world and wished to stay in the warm bed at least until the morning bell rang, but other parts (namely stomach) wanted to get up and have something to eat right now, which was very tempting. There was his disciplined kung fu master side, that tried to kick him out and for a nice invigorating five-mile jog before breakfast, which was almost unanimously vetoed, but finally the bit that clinched the debate was his bladder, that decided he had to get up _right now _and not a moment later.

It was a brisk, chilly early morning, assaulting him with cold spring winds as he walked to the outhouse and back, pretty much waking up the rest of him, and the kitchen was closer from here than his bed anyway, so might as well grab some breakfast now. It was still dark, with the first rays of sunlight only barely visible from the gap between the mountain ranges: still at least an hour before the bells. Yawning, stretching, and scratching himself, the panda lumbered back inside and to the kitchen, intent on a heavy breakfast and then perhaps that morning hike he was thinking about. (It might have been better had he done it the other way around, but honestly, right now he felt like he would collapse in the middle of the forest if he had tried it without food.)

Scrounging through the closets and pantries, he found and picked up an assortment of vegetables and noodles, put some water in the kettle to boil, and had just about gotten the kitchen knife to his hand when he first thought he heard something. The tiniest _creak_ from the floorboards right outside the kitchen: at first it would have indicated another early riser, but looking over there, even walking back to the corridor and giving both directions a check, he saw nobody, nor heard anything else. "Hello?"

No answer. After a moment or two his rumbling belly reminded him of more urgent matters, and so he just shrugged and went back to dice vegetables. It was probably just his imagination anyway.

His imagination was proven right two seconds and half a carrot later, in a not too unpleasant way, when he suddenly felt two furry hands being wrapped around his midsection: the initial contact made him jump a little, what with this being entirely unexpected and all, but he calmed down just as quickly when they continued to stroke his stomach and chest, and something warm and fuzzy pressed against his back, a hot breath hitting his neck and making him shiver, then a faint, seductive whisper.

"Just keep going with what you were doing...", Tigress murmured. "Don't mind me."

Po physically trembled, but his hitherto paused vegetable-cutting resumed without another pause. "Don't mind if I do... not... mind," he responded in as a casual tone as he could muster for the situation, which admittedly was difficult when a pair of paws insisted on caressing his front, a fanged mouth kissed him on the neck and cheek, and, perhaps most importantly, when he was pretty certain she was only half-dressed. He managed to cut the carrots and add them to the boiling water regardless, though he once nearly hurt his finger when she opted to bite him playfully.

"Mmm...", she breathed in deep behind him. "That smells delicious." He pretty much had to bite his lower lip to not moan: he absolutely adored Tigress's voice. It was always powerful no matter what she was using it for, and most of the time it was stoic and serious, even harsh - but should she ever choose to apply it to something more friendly, nonthreatening and diplomatic, it would be heard over most other voices and usually be respected and considered. And when she took it even further, like she did right now, picking up the tone she only ever used when she was with Po, and usually alone (a fact he prided himself of), it was no exaggeration to call it the purest, distilled, essence of sex for ears.

"It's just hot water, and the carrots I added in like ten seconds ago," he managed, as her paws moved away from his chest to his sides and shoulders. "I haven't even put any spices yet: that's usually the last part anyw- ohh!" He shruddered heavily as she began to rub him, purring.

"Well, it still smells good. Remember that I cannot cook, and only ever ate tofu before you arrived." He had to muster all his kung fu training and endurance to keep going like she wasn't there, as she pampered his shoulders and neck, planting more kisses all around his cheeks, and was that her tail wrapping around his left foot?

The fingers started to go lower, slowly and teasingly trailing a way across his back... lower... coming back to the front to his belly, which provided generous amounts of fur for frisking. He took his time, but successfully finished most of the soup, filling the air with delicious vapors... in spite of her best attempts to distract him from it, massaging his back and helping him relax, whispering more sweet nothings to his ear in her most lovely tone of voice, and even lifting her thigh to rub it against his hip, an act which almost had him lose control and only barely salvaged the kettle before it dropped - but what finally did him in and had him drop the pepper jar on the floor, where it shattered, was when her paws went even _lower_...

_Creak._

Even if Po could have been able to pass the sound as his imagination, which he was not inclined to do after the last time, the fact that in a split second he could not feel any Tigress behind (or around) him at all told him all there was to tell about the seriousness of the situation. He turned to his right as well, and witnessed another kung fu master in the doorway, his beak dropped and eyes wide as the scene unfolded in front of him. The all-consuming silence was only broken, and emphasized at the same time, by the chirping crickets somewhere near: it lasted for over a minute, after which Po finally broke it in the only way he could think of.

"...I know how this may seem pretty bad, but it's really not what it looks like."

The other two masters present gave him an empty look, tilting their heads: Crane looked no less shocked, much to the panda's embarrassment, but even worse, Tigress was giving him a glare that could kill. The silence befell the room even more awkward than before, if it was even possible - even longer, this time, and yes, still with the chirping crickets. Crane's eyes gradually turned to Tigress, looked up and down, then back to Po, and although he said nothing and neither of them had mystical powers of thought reading, they could discern it all from his face: _which was worse, the fact that Tigress was wearing no pants, or the fact that the oversized shirt still managing to preserve her modesty had been worn by Po on their date the night before?_

"I was...", he finally began, after a much too long time, "...going to come for breakfast. But it appears that I have lost my appetite. As in, forever. If anyone needs me, you may find me from the Northern Mountains for the next, I don't know, twenty years? I heard Master Fenghuang left a perfectly fine cave there, all abandoned..."

And then he was gone. The chirping crickets continued on to accentuate the awkward silence, until it came Tigress's turn to speak: "You can come in now, Mantis. We are done."

A pair of long black pants jumped through the doorway, with one very final chirp, and landed on the kitchen table, from where Mantis further tossed them to Tigress. "I will _not_ look up at you from the floor until you are wearing these."

Flushing red and turning to look away from him (a gesture reciprocated by the insect), she complied. Somewhere in the distance, the morning bell rang.


End file.
